Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 15, 2025
It seemed to me, though, as varry little fight were made for Ben Clough afore he died; he'd signed a paper, declaring positive as it were Ben who shot him; and t' case were half done when that were said.
The explanation seemed a lame one. Mr. Ancrum had left Clough End in May, promising to look out for a place for the lad at once, and to let him know. Six whole months elapsed between that promise and David's own departure. Yes, it was lame; but it was so long ago, and so many things had happened since, that it did not signify.
He saw the summits and angles of the old building touched with the cheerful beams, and the grand old trees, and at the opposite side the fells dark, with their backs towards the east; and down the side of the wooded and precipitous clough of Feltram, the light, with a pleasant contrast against the beetling purple of the fells, was breaking in the faint distance.
The woods have many trees, generally young; but some which seem to decay. They have been lopped. The house never had a garden. The addition of another story would make an useful house, but it cannot be great. Some buildings which Clough, the founder, intended for warehouses, would make store-chambers and servants' rooms . The ground seems to be good. I wish it well. We went to church at St. Asaph.
The hand of man had left no mark there, except the grass-grown pack-horse road. There was no sound nor sign of life immediately around me. The wind was cold, and daylight was dying down. It was getting too near dark to go by the moor tops, so I made off towards a cottage in the next clough, where an old quarry-man lived, called "Jone o'Twilter's." The pack-horse road led by the place.
I could not help thinking that all sorts of dreadful things might happen to Aveline that she might be taken away from Antwerp, or placed in the Inquisition and subjected to torture, to try and make her condemn her friends. The last idea was too dreadful to be entertained, and yet such things had been done day after day. At length Master Clough returned.
The soldier knocked at the gate. A warder, armed to the teeth, opened it. "What, more prisoners?" he exclaimed. "No," answered the soldier, and whispered a few words. "They pay well, though." I began rather to doubt whether some trick had not been intended, and suggested to my companions that we should be cautious. "Have two English ladies and a gentleman been brought here?" asked Master Clough.
Of the people with whom I made acquaintance in London at this visit, those who most interested me were Clough and Owen.
Clough, a rough and ready Yorkshirewoman, who had looked after the old man as long as he, Collingwood, could remember. She received him as calmly as if he had merely stepped across the street to inquire after his grandfather's health. "I thowt ye'd be down here first thing, Mestur Collingwood," she said, as he walked into the parlor at the back of the shop.
I stepped out into the lamplight, saying: "You need not search far. With your permission, Miss Carrington! Now I am only a guest here. Will you follow me?" The drawn face twitched, his left hand was clenched, and the other fumbled inside the breast of the threadbare coat as the old man turned to meet me. "No; here before them all I'll ask thee," he said hoarsely. "I'm Adam Lee of Stoney Clough.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking